


All That Glitters

by yeaka



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Dom/sub, Dominance, Established Relationship, M/M, Sexual Roleplay, Smaugbo References, Submission, WTF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-28
Updated: 2014-11-28
Packaged: 2018-02-27 07:13:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2683952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Khan gives Pavel a new kind of roleplay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All That Glitters

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sweetscribe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sweetscribe/gifts).



> A/N: Fill for perlockholmes’ “Chekov/Khan” request on [my tumblr](http://yeaka.tumblr.com/). (Russian dragons are Pavel’s myth, not mine~) Special thanks to abbeyjewel for betaing~
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Like most of their games, Pavel is told it’s coming and nothing more. He’s told to be home at twenty hours, and he is, waiting outside their apartment door with a slight tremble he can’t quite suppress: anticipation always gets the best of him. This is a new one, he was told, based off one of Pavel’s favourite books and whimsical fantasies, an old classic that Pavel could swear was based in Russia but Khan laughed at him for. It doesn’t matter. He could come home to find Khan dressed up like a toad, expecting a kiss from a princess, and Pavel would still moan in delight and meld himself seamlessly into Khan’s fabricated world.

The shopping bag is heavy in his hands. He stocked up on groceries—non-synthesized ones, while he’s enjoying his leave on Earth—and he sat in a coffee shop on his own, running over Mr. Scott’s blueprints and wishing he were in Khan’s lap. But he can’t do that on days when there are _special_ things planned: he knows Khan wants him eager and ready, not spent and pleasantly exhausted. Pavel bends to his lover’s whims and lets out a breath; he can’t wait any longer.

He taps the control panel, it reads him, clicks unlocked and whirs open in a heartbeat, revealing to Pavel the open space of their living room, swamped in shadows.

Curious, Pavel steps inside and lets his bag fall to the chair by the door. When the doors close behind him, they cut out all the light, and it only leaves a single candle flickering on the small table by the hall: just enough for Pavel to see his way towards it. He crushes his first instinct to ask the computer to illuminate his world. If Khan wants him in the dark, Pavel will become nocturnal. He kicks out of his shoes and walks for the hallway like a wraith in the night, mesmerized by the flicker at the end.

There’s a faint, golden shimmer painting the ceiling outside of where their bedroom is, and that’s where Pavel goes, feet moving on their own. His fingers automatically reach for the hem of his sweater, twisting in the beige fabric—should he remove it? When he reaches the end of the hall, his fingers fall away, his jaw tumbles open, and his eyes stretch wide.

The floor of their room is smattered with coins, great, golden, hulking things of the sort that haven’t been used on Earth for hundreds of years. The effect is magnificent; they catch in the wavering candles scattered about the room, dancing beautifully off the walls. Jewels stick out here and there, things that must be synthesized, _can’t_ be real, and Pavel feels vaguely like a stray, unworthy dog that’s wandered into a pirate’s great hoard. Maybe that’s Khan’s plan. Maybe Pavel is to be a kidnapped maiden, tied up to lie at his hero’s feet and taken amongst all Khan’s other treasures. The very idea makes Pavel’s heart thrum against his chest in excitement, but when his eyes lift to the bed, he’s glad he’s wrong.

Khan is no pirate. Khan’s barely a man. He’s in a man’s body, yes, but the way his now-golden eyes gleam through the darkness, his towering, obsidian horns twist towards the ceiling, he looks like a wild monster inside. His skin’s awash with red body-paint, applied like scales along his sides, his neck, parts of his arms and his high cheekbones. He’s naked, while his finger and toenails are painted like claws, his belly striped like a snake’s. His legs are spread, posture luxurious and leisurely, and Pavel’s drawn down to his cock, huge and awe-inspiring. It’s already aroused, thick and engorged, ribbed like a beast’s. Pavel’s mouth starts to water just looking at it, and he’s moving before he can stop himself, tripping over the hill of coins to stumble for his lover. 

When his knees hit the bed, he breathes, “I should’ve changed.” He should’ve changed into just a cloak, or something more appropriate for a hopeless mortal wandering into a great dragon’s hoard. There’s no mistaking what this is. Khan is beautiful on his own, but like this he’s undeniable, breathtaking, a work of art that calls to every fibre of Pavel’s being. He sits on the edge of the mattress and hesitates to touch Khan’s body: he doesn’t seem worthy. Yet he can’t stop himself, and he strokes his fingertips along the red scales of Khan’s outer thigh; Khan’s skin is burning hot beneath his touch.

Khan purrs in that deep, perfect rumble of his, “My favourite treasure has no need for clothes in the presence of his master.” Pavel shivers half from the words and half from Khan’s sex-soaked voice. Of course, he should’ve known. In this game, he’s a new jewel for Khan to play with, and possessions don’t wear coverings. He strips his sweater over his head with trembling hands, glad he wore nothing underneath. His pants and underwear he rolls down just as quickly, nearly tripping to get out of them, and he can feel Khan’s eyes on every new patch of skin he exposes. The clothes fall to the coin-covered floor, and he’s naked next to Khan’s nakedness, nowhere near as striking but too entranced to care. He’s bare for Khan so often that embarrassment no longer even occurs to him. Stripped down to nothing, Pavel bows his head in submission, giving himself over, even though he’s never once stopped being _Khan’s._

With his downcast eyes trailing right to Khan’s erect cock, Pavel can’t help but moan, “You make a magnificent dragon.” A magnificent anything. But this is absolutely perfect; everything Pavel could’ve hoped. He can’t stop staring at Khan’s cock, even as Khan reaches out to pet his hair, stroking fondly through the honey curls. Pavel leans into the touch, nuzzles into Khan’s palm, and keeps his lust-hazing eyes on his master’s powerful crotch.

“I’m happy to please my prized possession.” Khan’s purr is like honey down Pavel’s spine, and when he tugs at Pavel’s arm, Pavel becomes water, flowing to Khan’s whims. He’s tugged up the mattress and made to straddle Khan’s lap. When he sits, Khan pushes him down, grinding all of Pavel’s weight against his cock, while Pavel’s smaller dick rests along Khan’s yellowed stomach. He can feel the imprint of Khan between the cheeks of his ass like a third leg, and it takes effort, will, and practice not to lose himself in that, to start humping it right away. He distracts himself, instead, by leaning up Khan’s body and staring into Khan’s new eyes—contacts? Or some special, personalized genetic drop? At Khan’s easy, benevolent smile, Pavel dares to lift his hands to the side of Khan’s face, stroke back along his cheeks and up into his dark, smoothed back hair, parted around the horns. They’re cold as steal when Pavel fingers them, and he can’t find the seams—where they end and Khan’s skull begins.

He almost asks how they were made, but then, he’s not sure he wants to spoil the magic. Khan is talented in so many ways. As Pavel’s hands fall away, back to Khan’s broad shoulders, he can’t stop himself. He squirms in his boyfriend’s lap, half expecting to be smacked for his impudence, but Khan only growls and wraps strong arms around his waist. Pavel’s pulled into the heat of Khan’s body, his thin chest crushing into all of Khan’s muscles. That only drives him wilder. He drags his chest along Khan’s, his pebbling nipples digging into Khan’s taut abs, and he pants into the hollow of Khan’s neck, already lost in his heat like an animal _dying_ to be filled and plugged up. Khan chuckles at his efforts and strokes the small of his back, murmuring, “How eager you are, my little treasure...”

Pavel’s _always_ eager. He’s enthusiastic for his captain, but he’s insatiable for his lover. When he presses his face into Khan’s throat, he can smell the musk of raw _man_ and feel the slickness of the body paint, and he moans, wanton and desperate, “Tell me what you’re _really_ like.” He’s fallen into the game; they’ll have to play this one again. When he shuts everything out, focuses in on the feeling of Khan’s cock, pulsing huge and newly ribbed against his ass, he could almost believe it were real. “Tell me what it’s like to be a great dragon...”

“Much too big for you, little one,” Khan chuckles. His fingernails scrape like claws down the globes of Pavel’s ass, then rise again and climb his shoulders, trace his collarbone and press into his lips. Pavel opens his mouth obediently and is rewarded by being filled with Khan’s fingers, many of them shoving it at once. He moans around them and tries to lick at them, sucks and wets them as much as he can, and Khan fucks Pavel’s mouth for a time while he talks. “My wings alone would never fit in this room. My cock would never fit inside you. It’s the size of your entire body, and the best I could do is rut it against you, let you wrap your legs around it and hump it eagerly until I came all over your pretty face, enough to drown you if I were cruel enough to pin you down...” Pavel groans around his mouthful and presses his cock as hard into Khan’s chest as he can manage. When he drags his ass along Khan’s thighs, he can feel the scrape of Khan’s pubic hair against his ass, and he wishes it was Khan’s bulbous tip in his mouth instead of fingers. But then the fingers pull away from him, and he regrets his wish; he needs _something_ of Khan inside him...

But Khan’s spit-soaked hands are dropping back down his body, grabbing his cheeks and spreading them wide, and Pavel keens and pushes back into them. His cheeks are kneaded as a reward, squeezed and pinched and toyed with, and Pavel squirms, until his cheeks are pulled apart, and he’s held still, open. One dripping finger trails down his crack to rub at his hole. He’s twitching in delight and wants to suck it in, but then Pavel’s focus is snatched away again; Khan’s teeth are grazing his jaw.

Khan nips at Pavel’s ear and murmurs into it, “You would like that, wouldn’t you? You’d love to bathe in my cum, to sleep beneath my great belly and be pinned down by a single claw, never able to leave. You would be my favourite gem, my greatest treasure. I would take good care of you, my precious trinket...” Pavel doesn’t have the coherency to speak, so he just nods along with Khan’s testimony; he’d _love_ that. He always knew he belonged in the stars, but if he had known that lying in a dragon’s hoard was an option.... One of Khan’s fingers pushes suddenly inside him, and Pavel’s cry is lost in his existing litany of moans. Khan fingers him gently with the single digit, others tapping lightly around his puckered brim, and Pavel’s walls are already trying to open. He lets himself be teased apart, be coaxed wider, even with the minimal lube; if he could, he’d grow wet for his man. He’d be drenched every time. He’s already smearing precum across Khan’s stomach, but Khan doesn’t seem to mind. He fucks Pavel’s willing ass on one long finger until he can press another inside, and he purrs over Pavel’s whines, “Of course, there are still other ways I could take you. I could wrap you up in my tail, so securely that you wouldn’t be able to move for more than air, and I would still have room to twist the end of it back between your legs, to push and prod at your hole until you begged me to enter you. I’d fuck you on that spade tip, and you’d love every second of it, being spread open on my body. Every time you saw my tail coming after, your knees would grow weak and your cock would fill, and you’d present yourself to me and beg to be taken again, to be impaled on my magnificent tail for as long as I’d let you, and if you were very, very good, I just might let you do that, drive yourself to madness, seeking pleasure in my spikes...”

Yes, _yes_. Pavel is already wild with want; he’d do that if he could; beg to be fucked every minute of every day; he’d give up his commission if he could sit at Khan’s feet instead, lick Khan’s boots and warm Khan’s cock every second of his life. But he can’t and Khan wouldn’t let him do that; Khan’s too proud of him, how much he’s achieved, and that just makes every trip Pavel takes back to Earth that much special, because Khan’s waiting for him, every bit as glamourous as the Enterprise but _better_. By now, Khan has three fingers prying him open, wider and wider, and Pavel goes easily; he does all the time like he’s built for this. He’s nuzzling into Khan’s skin, anywhere he can reach, and he only realizes belatedly that he’s whimpering a steady stream of: “ _Please_ , please, Khan, _master_ , take me, I want to be your treasure, oh, _yes_ , _fuck_ me, _please_ —”

Of all their games, this is the best. For a moment, it seems like Khan is going to have mercy. His fingers still inside Pavel’s body, and he brings his head away to press a fire-hot kiss to Pavel’s cheek. Pavel keens and arches into it like some tribunal sacrifice. Khan’s teeth scrape Pavel’s cheek in the kiss’ wake, and he growls into Pavel’s flesh, “Tell me what I want to hear, my precious.”

Pavel wracks his brain and breathes before even fully formulating the answer, “I’m _yours._ ” Khan always likes to hear it, and Pavel means it more every time. As soon as the words are past his lips, he can feel Khan’s legs spreading behind him.

He’s pushed through them, down to the mattress; his back digs into the sheets and he opens his arms on instinct. Khan crawls into them, up on all fours like the beast he is, his claws grabbing at Pavel’s legs to pull them up and around him. Pavel’s fingers knot in Khan’s hair, stroking at the horns, his vision filled with gold and red and the black of Khan’s hair. In the low firelight, his edges seem to blur; he’s truly something otherworldly. That new life form Pavel joined Starfleet to meet. He opens his lips, wanting, and Khan fills his mouth at the same time as his ass, tongue and cock plunging into him at once. His scream is muffled, but that doesn’t stop him from shrieking down Khan’s throat. He’s engulfed in a duet of pleasure and the pain of having his ass split open on Khan’s mammoth dick. It grinds its way in a little bit at a time, but there is no reprieve until it’s all the way inside, and only then does Khan let his mouth free to gasp and whine.

Every time Khan fucks him, he feels fuller than before. His ass clenches around Khan’s cock all the same, and he can feel all the little veins and curves that he’s used to, the spongy head and the natural arch that bends to his walls. But this time there’s more; there’re ribs and ridges he isn’t used to, little, extra prosthetics that pulse like the rest of it, as natural as the horns. Pavel’s filled to the brim and stimulated in every little nook and cranny. He flexes around several times, trying to get used to the girth, trying to memorize the new feel, but then Khan is rocking out and rocking back in, and Pavel’s head tosses back, curls haloed on the sheets. He expected to be ravaged by a monster, but instead Khan makes love to him at a slow, torturous pace that leaves Pavel reeling and desperate. He clutches to Khan’s body and drinks in every movement, every new angle, until Khan reaches that one angle that pulls him right against Pavel’s sweet spot, and he loses himself in stars.

Khan covers his mouth in another kiss, steals his air away. Khan’s teeth toy with his lower lip, Khan’s tongue plays with his, laps at the roof of his mouth, and Pavel struggles to come out to play. He kisses Khan back while Khan’s hips steadily rock harder, a bit more forceful every time, transitioning in a dizzying haze from gentle to fervent to brutal. Before long he’s being properly _fucked_ , driven into the mattress with greedy, harsh thrusts that slap his cock along Khan’s stomach and drive Khan’s massive cock impossibly far inside him. He tries to breathe through his nose, but it gets so overwhelming that he has to tear away, stare up at the ceiling through dilated eyes and watch the golden reflection dance along the dark. Khan simply sets in on his neck, biting and sucking and sure to leave bruises, big red marks and claims Pavel can take back with him to space, stare at it in the mirror and remember being Khan’s pretty trinket. Khan licks over his shoulder and hisses, “So tight, my little treasure.”

“So... big,” Pavel gasps, only able to speak between thrusts, because when Khan’s cock is filling him, he’s utterly useless. “My... _ah_... dragon...”

Khan chuckles his deep laugh and nuzzles into Pavel’s neck, biting more teeth-shaped grooves. “And you’d love to stay my treasure, wouldn’t you? You’d never go back to your ship if you could stay here instead... I could even have a nice collar made up for you, glittering with rubies, rig you up a nice leash made of gold and chain you to the foot of my bed...” Pavel gasps his _yes_ , he’d _adore_ that, and Khan grins his pleasure and only fucks Pavel harder, digs Pavel so fiercely into the mattress that Pavel’s sure he’ll explode at any minute. He doesn’t need to touch himself, because Khan’s stomach against his shaft is enough, the weight of Khan’s crotch bearing down on his balls, the feel of Khan’s thick cock stroking his walls. “You’re _mine,_ Ensign Pavel Chekov, my own, personal diamond. You _belong_ in my claws.”

Pavel screams, “ _Yes_ ,” and it bursts with his orgasm, washing through him like a hurricane. He arches off the bed, throwing himself onto Khan’s dick, even as Khan croons in approval and crushes him back down. His cum splatters between them, soaking his own stomach and covering Khan’s beautiful red paint in splashes of white. Pavel’s eyes lock shut and he digs his way into the side of Khan’s face, clutching at Khan’s hair for dear life, toes curling at the small of Khan’s back where his tail should be, nearly blacking out with the rapture.

Khan fucks him the whole way through it. There’s no chance to come down. His orgasm stretches, reaches, fills him for thrust after thrust, then trickles out only a bit at a time, the pleasure still lingering as his body’s wracked, jerking into every stab of Khan’s cock. His hips are shuddering, his arms trembling. He slumps slowly into the mattress and lets his master use his spent form, his abused hole still clutching wildly and hoping, however sore he is, that he can keep Khan inside him.

But Khan pulls out, harsh and quick. Pavel groans and squeezes his thighs together, feeling suddenly empty and unprepared. Kahn gets up on knees, looms over Pavel, touches his own cock, and a river of cum shoots out of the tip, splattering all across Pavel’s body, over his chest and up to his face. He shuts his eye just in the time to have it drape over one eyelid, little globs clinging to his chin and slowly dribbling down. Another spray hits his lips, and Pavel opens, sticks his tongue out, pushes up on his elbows and catches the next stream half in his mouth. What he misses coats his stomach. Khan pumps out wave after wave, always impressive, augmented to several times what any other man could give, and Pavel takes it all with the usual excitement and willingness to serve. When Khan’s done, he crawls over Pavel’s body and holds his still-hard cock to Pavel’s mouth, smearing the tip around Pavel’s lips. Pavel licks it all away and sucks the last drops out, only wishing Khan was really a dragon and he could drown in it.

Finished, Khan climbs off Pavel’s body and crawls back down, lies along the bed, languid and beautiful and looking every bit a king. His paint and faint scales and impressive horns have held up well; even in the haze of post-coital bliss, the magic holds: he’s a dragon, through and through. Pavel stares at him, full of adoration, and leans as far as he can.

Khan leans the rest of the way to let them kiss, chaste and simple. Pavel pulls back when he can no longer hold himself up, and he collapses onto his back, heavy and satiated. He can hear Khan’s smirk and feel Khan’s gaze, and he misses Khan’s heat, even though if he were to take that furnace atop him any longer, he’d probably catch a fever. After a few minutes, the cum feels pleasantly cool along his skin, and he waits another little while before scooping it off on his fingers and licking what he can away before it dries. Khan snakes an arm under Pavel’s head while he does it, acting as his pillow and softly petting his hair. “You’re such a pretty gem,” Khan coos.

“You’re a god,” Pavel answers whilst sucking Khan’s seed from his thumb. It’s surprisingly easy to think of Khan like this: not fully human, dulled down to something Pavel’s poor, mortal race can understand. “ _My_ god.” Finished, he nuzzles his way back into Khan’s chest.

“Tell me when you can take another round,” Khan purrs simply, and Pavel, groaning, wills himself to grow hard again—by the time the Enterprise is ready to pick him up, he plans to be unable to walk. He’ll grin and bear it of course, but he’ll sit sore in his seat, smug with the knowledge that he spent his leave claimed by a dragon, Russia’s most magnificent legend.


End file.
